Nathan's Child - By Anne McAllister Page 0,59
tell.
“They invited us to a barbecue at their place later tonight,” she went on. “They’re very nice.”
“Yeah, they are.”
She put her hands on the back of one of the deck chairs. It gave her something to hold on to. “Did Gaby have an offer for you?”
“What?” He scowled, then raked a hand through his hair. Shrugging, he turned away. “She’s always got ideas.”
“She thinks you need to get back to work.”
He turned his head and glared at her. “I’ve been working.”
“Yes.” She moved around the chair and went to stand alongside him, looking out over the tiny back gardens two stories below. “But you can’t do that forever. What is Gaby’s idea?”
“Another book about Zeno. The publisher wants me to go back, follow him some more. See if he’s still out there. Shoot the sequel.” Nathan’s mouth twisted.
“That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Just dandy. But I’m not going.”
“Why not? Lacey would be so impressed.”
Nathan’s knuckles whitened on the railing. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at her now. He stared out into the gardens.
“You don’t have to stay just because you told me you were going to,” Carin went on carefully in the face of his silence.
“Yes, I do,” he said through his teeth. “I’m going to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, turning now so that his blue gaze collided with hers, “I’m not leaving until you marry me. I told you that.”
“But it’s a good idea. And you can’t—”
His jaw clenched. “I’m not going, Carin. You’re not getting rid of me that way.” He turned away and strode quickly back into the apartment. He banged out the door and clattered down the stairs without a backward glance.
The summer night was warm but not humid. The backyard barbecue at the MacCauleys was a resounding success.
Lacey and Finn and Izzy’s daughters—“They used to be nieces,” Lacey informed Carin, “but Finn and Izzy adopted them”—had become fast friends. They shared interests in photography and painting and a boy band that had a cute lead singer. Lacey was eager for them to come visit at Pelican Cay. And not just Tansy and Pansy, the twins, but Finn and Izzy and the little boys, too.
She thought the little boys, Rip and Crash—“Don’t ask,” said Izzy when she introduced Carin to the two dark-haired preschoolers—were so much fun.
“I wouldn’t mind a brother,” Lacey confided to Carin, “now that Dad’s back.”
The look Carin gave her must have precipitated second thoughts because Lacey said quickly, “Or, um, not.” And seeing Izzy carrying a tray of lemonade out onto the patio, she hurried to help, leaving her mother by herself—to observe, to ponder, to reflect.
It was a lovely evening. A good time was had by all. And it was nearly eleven by the time they all got back to Rhys and Mariah’s. Stephen and Lizzie fell asleep in the stroller. Lacey, who had bounced through the evening, began to slow down on the walk back uptown.
They had to get up early to catch a flight and so, when they got home, she fell into bed without a murmur and only one question.
“We can come back soon, can’t we, Mom?”
Carin smiled and kissed her good-night. Then she took a shower while Nathan made up the beds. When she came out, the beds were made up, and he said gruffly, “My turn,” and brushed past her into the bathroom.
Carin lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
When she’d imagined coming to New York with Lacey, it hadn’t been to a place like this. She’d imagined a hotel, not a home. She’d imagined strangers, not friends. She’d imagined herself and Lacey on their own.
It hadn’t been anything like that.
But it had been good.
Even in her sleep, Lacey had had a smile on her face. She’d had a wonderful time in New York. She’d had a wonderful time with her family. With the Wolfes. She loved them, and they clearly loved her. They’d taken her into their hearts and their homes.
They had done much the same with Carin. Though Dominic had reason to dislike her, though they all had reason to resent her for what she’d done to Dominic and then for having kept Lacey’s existence hidden for so long, they had actually welcomed her, too.
They had made her feel as if she was a part of their family. They had rekindled her longings, had reanimated her dreams. They had made her want things she had long ago told herself she would never have—not with Nathan.
The shower shut off. She heard him moving